Live From The Plantation

"Oh my fucking god man, ah. fucking serious"

Jesus Christ, man. already?

Man, time flies like a motherfucker."

Rise and shine!

Yet another day to toss away

What does my clock display?

It says eight

Shit, I'm late for work again, so then

I dip with my pad and my pen

Step into the work place with my work face

Wince at my time card 'cause I'm scarred

Mad 'cause I sacrifice my day and gets me

A trifling hourly wage of six fifty, nifty

Now I'm off to slave quarters

With a whole bunch of other people's sons and daughters

Working so they can be mothers and fathers

Laboring real hard, hoping the boss offers

More petty cash to his bums and paupers

Kissing his ass 'cause they hoping they prosper

Here's the math:

You work a thirty a day, away

The government takes a thirty a check, correct

You go home and drink 'cause you don't get

An ounce of respect, and your spirit is wrecked

Life is a gift to be enjoyed, every second every minute

It's temporary, not infinite

Yet I find myself looking at the clock

Hoping for the day to fly by, so I ask myself "Why?"

I'm doing this remedial work for second graders

I'm an educator with mega-flavor, so

Maybe I should just jump up and get ill

Maybe I should let these people know they're being killed

Maybe I should try my very best to chill, and get paid

'Cause I gotta pay bills, raa!

"Excuse me brother, can you please stop making that noise

So I can talk? Thank you. Now the boss says he wants you to come up

With more copies of these checks, and the last thing he wants is you to

Move the desk to the basement, and can I have this stapler?"

"Hey there champ, big boss man says you been late

3 days in a row, better sharpen up"

Aw, this fucking place sucks - same shit everyday

Like to wring the boss' neck though, if only dreams could come true

Dead boss, somebody call Red Cross

I guess he got caught up in my mental holocaust

How much did it cost?

Just a little piece of my mind for peace of mind

"But he's bleeding!"

Oh no, leave him. He'll be fine

He'll heal on his own

If you just give him some time

Considering the fact that his face is misaligned

His legs are over there lying right next to his spine

"Lunchtime!" Huh? Oh, Jesus, must have been daydreaming

My boss walks by, he's looking just like an asshole

Smiling because he jerks niggas for minimum cash flow

He's cool to my face but I swear I heard him laugh though

Tickled by the fact that I'm the modern day Sambo

And just when I think that I'm about to go Rambo

I call up my man and he says he understands, yo

We all are being murdered by a similar process

Whether you work at the candy store

Or slave at the office

The purpose of our life is just to serve the economy

They misinform our minds to paint a picture of harmony

But if you listen then you know that shits out of tune

'Cause the function of our life is just to work and consume

Fuck reaching out to help the next, there ain't any room

Just close your eyes and block your ears and march to your doom

But since I really ain't getting paid for my time

I pulled out my pen and started writing a rhyme

Can't you see that I'm busy, jerk?

Don't you dare approach me with busy work

Take another step and get hurt

By the man that embodies mad years of anger

A cool bro, soon to be the Boston Strangler

Everything inside of me is about to erupt

'Cause a righteous individual just likes to corrupt

I knew he'd lock me up if I started a brawl

So I deaden, and I punch the clock the fuck off the wall

"Yeah that's right motherfucker

You can't keep underpaying people and mistreating them all the time

That's gonna resort to crime.

As a matter of fact, you know what?

Faks, yo cut this motherfucker, man."

9-1-1